


"Tell me or else..."

by AgentSparrow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean giggles, Fluff, M/M, Non-Consensual Tickling, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentSparrow/pseuds/AgentSparrow





	"Tell me or else..."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentCrane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCrane/gifts).



“Cas, don’t fuck with me. What the hell is up?” This was the third time Dean had caught the dumb ass staring off into space, a small, sad little frown plastered on his cu – masculine and completely normal lips. 

“Nothing!” Cas responded, narrowing his eyes. “What would make you think such a thing?” 

“You’re spacing out, not listening, refusing to make eye contact – “Dean tilted his head forward, and missed Cas’s eyes by a few seconds. This only proved to him in his own mind that he was right. “You got a girl or something?” That was the only thing in his mind that would account for the bizarro behavior. 

Like, Cas was weird, but he wasn’t this weird. 

“I do not ‘have a girl’. That is not something anyone should own.” Cas snorted regrettably. His normal lack of knowledge with modern turns of phrase only assisted him in his façade. 

Dean sighed. “Cas. I mean are you in love. Dork.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly. He took a long, slow sip from his bottle of beer. He leaned further back into the thick couch cushions and shook his butt a little, settling in. 

Cas sighed mournfully, nearly unaware that he had begun to drift away again. If only – if only what? He was female? If only God had destined his human form to be someone physically capable of loving Dean the way he deserved? If only he wasn’t a hidden abomination, someone Dean would be disgusted to look at if he knew?

“Cas. Cut it out.” Dean kicked him in the legs with his sock covered foot. “I see you. You’re ruining my groove.”

“I’m sorry.” Cas winced internally. Crap. His mournful mood was just making everything worse! 

Dean smirked, and set down his beer on a coffee table. “Lighten up, or else.” 

“Or else what?”Cas turned his head hesitantly, bracing himself for something bad, like being force fed tacos or having to listen to ACDC again. 

“Or… I’ll just have to….. Tickle you!” Dean flashed jazz hands, practically giggling to himself. His plan was genius. He was so smart. This used to always work on Sam. 

“Dean, I am not eleven. I am eons older than you can comprehend.”Cas folded his hands very seriously. Dean didn’t know he was ticklish, did he? 

Dean cracked his knuckles. It was time then. He finally made eye contact with Cas, who was shooting him very concerned looks. 

Cas tensed, about to leap from the couch and duck into another room to mope in peace. 

Dean let out a ferocious battle cry. Flinging himself forward with excessive gusto, he wrapped his arms around Cas’s middle and squeezed. 

Cas shrieked, flailing his majestic arms and legs comically. He shoved and squirmed against Dean’s grip, deep laughter bubbling up when Dean began to tickle him under the arms. 

“I’ve got you!” Dean cackled, straddling Cas and pinning him to the couch. “Now, are you gonna confess or what?” 

Cas gasped, pushing helplessly against Dean’s weight. “No –“He couldn’t – tell – not even – to end this humiliating endeavor. 

“Then…” Dean gave Cas only a moment of mercy. He lifted his hands and crossed them over his chest, smirking. “Tell me. Or I’ll tickle your tummy.” He felt a small amount of shame, having used such a childish word but – well, in these kinds of situations, the word ‘stomach’ never fit. 

“No!” Cas whined, wiggling in desperation. “This is absurd.” 

“You’re absurd!” Dean fussed, untucking Cas’s rumpled shirt. “I’m gonna –“

Cas had no clue why Dean was getting his face closer and closer to his stomach, but it was deeply unnerving to him on many levels, the first of which being his ability to remain – composed – was leaving quickly. 

Dean chuckled, blowing hard on Cas’s stomach. 

Cas shrieked again, writhing against Dean’s hips. “Get off me! I’ll tell you! Don’t you dare do that again!” 

“Go ahead then. Tell me.” Dean puffed lightly on Cas’s stomach, taking sick pleasure in every sharp breath and giggle that escaped the normally reserved angel’s throat. 

Cas didn’t have the ability to think about the consequences of Dean’s demand for information, only the need to stop the torture. “I – I love you!” 

Dean immediately sat up, jerking his hands away from Cas’s shirt. “You – what?” 

Cas’s breath caught in his throat. What – what had he just done? “I’m sorry – “He turned his eyes away, adjusting his shirt to cover his stomach. “I’ll just leave now.”

Dean pushed Cas back onto the couch before he could get up. He gripped his shoulders tightly, breath tight again, seemingly for no reason. “Say it again.” 

Cas wanted to cry. He knew his face was red. He hated this. When would this be over? He needed to leave. He could only leave if he fulfilled Dean’s request. 

Cas slowly drew his eyes back up to Dean’s, finding an intense look that was less disgusted than he suspected. 

“I love you.” He whispered. 

Dean’s hard expression softened into a short laugh. He cupped Cas’s face gently, and kissed his forehead. “I love you too.” He whispered. 

“What?” Cas’s voice was hoarse. This couldn’t be happening. He was dreaming. Hallucinating. This couldn’t be real. 

“I love you too.” Dean slowly leaned forward, shyly flicking his eyes first to one side, then another. He kissed Cas quickly and softly, not wanting to stray too   
long in case – in case – never mind they were in the bunker they were safe he could kiss Cas as hard as he wanted to. 

So he did. 

Cas moaned, not necessarily because he was turned on (he might have been, he wasn’t so good at sorting out the fie workings of his human body) but because he had so much tension in his heart that just needed to get out. 

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and sighed against his lips, truly relaxing for perhaps the first time in weeks. 

Dean laughed dryly as he pulled away, a huge grin blooming on his face. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Cas was still blushing. 

“For telling me.” Dean whispered, nuzzling Cas’s cheek softly. 

“You’re welcome.” Cas swallowed. “My mouth is really dry. Is that normal?” 

Dean laughed. “Yup.” He kissed Cas’s nose, his forehead, then his mouth. 

“Guys!” Sam squeaked from the doorway. 

Cas and Dean lept guiltily from the couch. 

“What Sam?” Dean trilled. “Sam, Sammy, Samwich, Samuel?” 

“Just – “ Sam grinned, clutching his book of notes closer to his chest. “Don’t have loud sex alright?” 

“Deal.” Dean gasped, glad that Sam didn’t seem to be interested in ribbing him. 

“Does this mean we need to buy condo – “Sam began. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled. He chased Sam out of the room yelling about ‘boundaries’ and ‘propriety’. 

Cas smiled quietly to himself, tucking his shirt in slowly. 

Something broke loudly in the other side of the bunker. 

Cas chuckled. He leaned back against the couch and touched his lips reverently. 

Dean loved him. 

Dean loved him. 

Dean loved him.


End file.
